


A Dressing Room Kiss

by VoluntaryBubblehead



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fluff, Other, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoluntaryBubblehead/pseuds/VoluntaryBubblehead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After your most recent battle against the REDs, your down to you last pair of wearable pants. While out shopping for more, BLU Spy finds you in the dressing room, and you two exchange words. *This is a fluff and nothing more than some suggestive kissing happens* *Also, the reader is left gender-neutral*</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dressing Room Kiss

A stack of jeans draped over one arm, you step into the dimly lit changing room, quickly locking the door behind you. Setting the stack on the lone chair that looks to have seen better days, you eye yourself in the mirror, adjusting your t-shirt for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. You remind yourself to stop at the makeup department to see if they had anything for that hickey. 

Glancing down to the tower of pants, you wiggle out of your own war torn pair and shimmy into the first one on top. You never really liked how brand new jeans felt, the stiff denim an unwelcome sensation, but after the constant battering the ones you’d brought with you to BLU base had taken, you’d found yourself down to your last pair of wearable ones and had deemed it necessary for a shopping trip before they finally gave out. Turning on the spot, you inspect yourself in the mirror, squinting as you shifted. Well, I’ll be damned, you thought with a grin. These jeans made your ass look fantastic. A little too tight to be worn comfortably in battle, but perfect for walking around base and giving that damned Spy a show. 

You rub at the hickey on your neck, thankful that no one had seen it before you’d slipped out this morning. You didn't even want to think about the kind of teasing you’d get if the guys knew you and Spy were together. Just as you reach to unbutton what you now call your sexy jeans, you feel a presence tingling against your neck and sudden weight pulling at your belt loops. You’re yanked back into a familiar chest and you whisper, “Spy?”

“The one and only, darling.” You hear him murmur in your ear. “Except for that red bastard.”

You turn your head, but see only air. Conniving invisible asshole. “Why are you here?” You try to keep your voice as low as possible, ever aware of the gaps above and below the dressing room door. 

“I could not resist after I saw you sneak out this morning.” He moves your shirt with his nose, keeping a firm grip on your pants as he kisses your hickey. 

“That reminds me.” You grip his chin, your other hand pointing at said hickey. “Next time you decide to give me one of those, can I request you place it in a more inconspicuous place.”

You can feel his lips move into a wide grin, and he turns you around, fingers entwining back into the loops. You feel him pull you close and your mouth meets his, your arms moving up to wrap around his shoulders. He removes his hands from your hips, ghosting over your skin as though seeking out the perfect spot to place a love bite. Eventually, he lays them back on your hips, but begins to undo your zipper. You pull your face away, placing your hands over his. “No, Spy, not here.” You glance worriedly back to the door. “There are people here.”

“I will try to keep quiet then.”

You slap his shoulder and he uses your brief distraction to pull your jeans the rest of the way down. You hastily stifle a yelp as he suddenly picks you up, gravity letting the pants fall to the floor. “Quiet now.” he whispers, and you glare.

He pushes the stack of jeans to the floor with his foot, setting you on the chair in their place. You feel him rest his arms on either side of you, his breath tickling your skin as it moves along your thighs. He retraces his breaths with kisses, and you can just barely hear his mumbled French, some familiar words hitting your ears and making you smile. You run your fingers along his chin. “I love you too, you idiot.”

At this he places a hard kiss, and you can see the slight twinges of pink rise to the skin. He shifts and you find your lips caught by his. “X marks the spot.” he whispers against your mouth. “Saving that spot for later.”

He pulls away from you, and you feel his hand rest on yours to help you up. “I’ll meet you outside.” he gives a final whisper before, you assume, he crouches under the gap below the door.   
Silently snickering, you shake your head, replacing the stack of jeans and pulling on the next pair. After several minutes you've found three pairs of sturdy ones that’ll last you through the incoming war, and the one pair that defined your ass wonderfully. Stepping out of the dressing room, you’re momentarily startled when you see Spy leaning casually against the entrance. His typical suit jacket is gone, and the sleeves of his collared shirt are rolled up. His balaclava is also missing, and you find yourself swooning at the sight of his chiseled features. He never showed his face to anyone but you, and you always felt exceptionally honored by that.

Your movements catch his eye and he looks over, grinning. “Hope you’re buying the pair you had on.”

You held up said pair and his grin widens. “Good, I liked those.”

“I figured.” 

You take the hand he offers, leading him over to the checkout counter. Once you have your purchases paid for and bagged, he takes the lead, striding out into the center of the mall and over to the neighboring ice cream place. You smile at him. “Are we on a date?”

He gives you a sly smirk. “Of course.”

He orders for you, and you notice that he doesn't even hesitate with your preferred ice cream flavor even though you know you've only mentioned it once before in passing. This man really was incredible, and you felt like the luckiest person in the world to have found him. As he hands you your ice cream, you say, “Thank you…so much.”

He chuckles, “It’s just ice cream.”

“No.” You place a short yet passionate kiss on his lips. “Thank you for everything, for being in my life, for being perfect.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. “If I’m perfect, then you must be heaven sent.”


End file.
